


The Secrets We Keep

by 7Swans



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7Swans/pseuds/7Swans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor and Odin must deliver devastating news to Frigga</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secrets We Keep

The Secrets We Keep  
Chapter 1

She is waiting for them in her solar.

The two men move slowly but purposefully through the ancient hall, once the site of tireless childhood races, its austere grandeur energized by whoops of laughter, catcalls, the pounding of feet toward victory…defeat, its length seemingly endless. Adulthood has diminished the distance to the finish line considerably. Now, it is just another cavernous space within a cavernous palace, warmed by great raised braziers set at intervals along its length. Despite their size, the fires' flames can illuminate only so much of the immense area leaving deep pockets of shadow veiled by drifting smoke. The atmosphere created is dreamlike. 

Perhaps this is a dream, thought Thor and, soon I’ll awaken to the usual morning commotion caused by some trick Loki has played on the servants. Everything will be, as it should. But, it's not a dream. His body is wounded, throbs with pain, but the worst isn't physical. His mind and heart feel as heavy as his boots. Each step an effort, as though he is slogging through quicksand. He is keenly aware of the emptiness beyond his father’s left shoulder; the absent footsteps that should be keeping time with his, the mischievous, infectious grin. It's physical…that empty space. It revives a memory, one that now causes Thor to flinch…with regret. They had always walked thusly, Thor to Odin’s right, Loki on his left. Once, when they were children Loki had asked his big brother why this was. Thor had teased that since their father only had his left eye he needed Loki to walk on his left side so he could keep that eye on him…incase he did something bad. Thor’s vision blurs. As he recalls, Loki had questioned his explanation, had wanted to know why Odin would think he would be bad. Thor had only laughed and winked. Knowing what he now knows… As though to punish, a cramp shoots through his right arm and spreads down into his wrist and fingers, the suddenness of it almost causes him to break stride. He winces and kneads the muscle; it had to be an aftereffect of holding on to… and…another memory, much worse, rises unbidden…how insubstantial Gungnir had felt…once Loki let go. 

She is waiting for them... 

Somewhere in the gloom an Einherjar shifts position, and the screech of rasping armor echoes in the vastness. To evade his thoughts Thor focuses on the man walking slightly ahead, but Odin's face is impassive. It’s disturbing, this detached attitude of his father's. How can he appear so unmoved…untouched by what they have just been through…lost? And, by what lies ahead? 

She is waiting... 

All too soon, they arrive. The doors stand open. Thor's steps flag but Odin strides through without hesitation. Thor has faced countless enemies without a qualm, but this...he braces his shoulders, takes a deep breath and follows.  
She is standing in the center of the room, hair warm copper in the candlelight cast by the chandelier overhead. Her relief is evident by her smile, but both are short-lived when she realizes there are only…two.

"What has happened?" A second question is left unasked but hangs in the air. Frigga waits, her eyes on her husband’s face. Her demeanor is calm, but there is…tension. Neither man answers. Thor’s throat has gone dry so he clears it, drawing his mother's gaze. He chafes under her scrutiny not daring to meet her eyes. It had been agreed upon beforehand that Odin should be the spokesman, so Thor waits miserably for him to get on with it. But Frigga, knowing her son to be the more malleable, steps closer. "Tell me", she coaxes. Her tone is her 'mother' voice. How often had it gained her knowledge that her sons had sought to keep hidden? Thor steels himself against the natural reflex to obey. He feels a tic pulsing in his jaw. Why in the Nine Realms doesn’t Odin speak?!

Dismayed by her son's silence and the all too apparent stress it appears to be causing him, Frigga turns back to her husband, catching him off-guard. Odin finds his voice at last. 

"Frigga…My Dear…there has been an accident…  
…the BiFrost has been damaged." 

Frigga…blinks. "Damaged, in what way?” “How?" "Irreversibly?” these are the appropriate, natural responses she should make, instead, the question she asks is the one Thor has dreaded, "Where is Loki?" Unable to control himself, Thor shoots his father a look, his mother sees it and cries, "What are you hiding? TELL ME!" unwittingly echoing her youngest son's plea of days earlier. Odin attempts to capture her outthrust hands but she evades him, hugging her arms. Hands outstretched, his eye an unfathomable pool, Odin hesitates, then continues, his voice gentle, "Loki is dead."

Frigga stands as though turned to stone, her brows knitted, not comprehending. Odin sees the exact moment she grasps the significance of his words and he braces. Perhaps afraid that anything she says at that moment will only lend credence to Odin's statement, Frigga turns to Thor, her eyes beseech him to refute his father's words. Instead…she finds the truth coursing wetly down his cheeks.

"Take me to him." The steadiness of her voice is surprising. "I need to see…" "Mother," Thor interrupts, his voice cracking. Ignoring his father's growled warning, he plows ahead. "Mother, Loki fell…from the BiFrost. His body is lost to us."  
Without a word Frigga wheels and crosses quickly to the door. Upon the threshold she turns, eyes glazed with unshed tears. She pauses there for a moment then, her hands fly up to cover her mouth and her control breaks, tears cascade over her fingers. With a wounded cry she flees the room.

Thor is devastated. He has never seen his mother…vulnerable…fragile. He turns helplessly towards his father. Odin nods brusquely, "Go, comfort her."

###

Odin contemplates the door through which his wife and son have fled. Then, with a deep sigh, he crosses to a trestle table and pours a goblet of wine from the flagon there. He drinks deeply and pours another.

"Is there something you wish to forget Husband, that you should drink without enjoyment?" The wine catches in his throat and he chokes. Droplets fall across the table, gleaming red and wet against the wood. He spins around to find his wife standing close behind him. His eye narrows and he wipes his mouth with the back of a hand. "Ah, Thor, I take it, is off consoling an illusion?"

Frigga takes the goblet from his hand, tops it off, and hands it back before answering. "There are things Thor does not need to know. Things that need to stay between the two of us." Odin accepts the goblet but sets it back upon the table without drinking. His actions don’t betray his feelings, but they are in turmoil. He meets her gaze and what he sees there…sadness, anger, restraint…only heighten his unease. Never in their centuries together has she ever deliberately deceived him [much less employed magic in their relationship]. 

"Very well, come, let us sit and talk." Odin offers his hand intending to escort her to a couch before the reflection pool. Instead she leads him up the steps and out onto the terrace. Ignoring a stone bench, its rigid seat softened by cushions, she chooses to stand facing him, her back against the balustrade. Beyond her shoulder, Odin can see steam rising in the far distance, marking the wounded BiFrost.

Before she can speak Odin takes her hands, pressing them to his chest, thumbs rubbing gently along their backs. He leans towards her, his voice low, soothing. "My Dear, I know this has been a tremendous shock for you, as it has for all of us, but...I believe in time we shall come to see that, as tragic as it is, it is for the best." She doesn't pull away but the hands in his clench. "Really, the best for whom…Husband?" It is his turn to tense. Frigga turns her head and gazes out over their sleeping kingdom, her expression haunted. When she speaks, her voice is haunted, too. 

"I saw…everything."

Odin’s eye widens then, narrows.

She continues, "When you pulled Thor to safety, his face was a mask of grief and loss, but yours…" her gaze swings back to his, "yours, however, registered only…relief. Not just because Thor was safe but because Loki was…gone."  
Realizing that it is useless to prevaricate Odin grips her hands tight. "You…saw? How?" Then he answers his own question, "Hlidskjalf." 

"You gave me permission upon our wedding day, or have you forgotten? And, while you were in Odin's Sleep I gave that same permission to Loki." At this Odin expels breath in a long angry hiss. Frigga meets his indignation with composure.  
"Your outrage is ridiculous seeing as how you knew full well what was transpiring around you." His scowl deepens.  
"You left me no choice, you know, what with Thor banished. I could not leave you whilst you were so vulnerable so, I made Loki acting regent. Which, was only right…he is next in line." Her tone dares him to disagree. His eye closes but he does not refute her statement. 

"Then earlier tonight, things happened so fast, things I still don't understand." Her voice tightens. "But then, I don't have to tell you what transpired…before you woke so suddenly and left me…without a word. My reflection pool is useless in such a situation so, yes, Hlidskjalf was my only recourse." 

Odin drops her hands and slumps wearily down upon the bench. Frigga begins to pace, then turns to face him. Odin lifts his head and considers his wife. Even after so many centuries her beauty and the love he feels for her still causes him to catch his breath. Now, as they silently regard each other her features remain still, the skin drawn taut across her elegant cheekbones. Her voice, tight with emotion, breaks the silence first. 

"I saw, and heard our son beg you for understanding, forgiveness [for what I do not know] and you refused to give it." She takes a step towards him her gaze boring into his, her words arrows. "He hung there, over the void. What did you think was going to happen? What the outcome would be?" 

Odin holds up his hands as though to ward off her words. The gesture must have touched her for her voice softened though the words didn't, "How could you? He is our son and you gave him no quarter. Why, Odin? Tell me why, after so many lies could you not tell one more to save his life?”

"Yes, yes," he agrees. "Loki had been raised our son and, he would have been my successor had Thor…died!" Almost choking on the word he gets to his feet, his voice rising, hardening along the way. "A situation which Loki strove mightily to bring about!" Stirred by the anger in his voice, there are muttered croaks, the rustle of feathers in the dark. Odin looks up to where Huginn and Muninn roost on the overhanging ledge. His voice lowers, "That, I was made privy to as I made my way to the BiFrost tonight."

"Oh, I know you don't believe me," he waves away her protest. That the babe you raised would try to kill his 'brother' and…me." At her gasp, his features soften, a little. "Yes, Loki tried to kill Thor on Midgard using The Destroyer. And, how do you suppose Lauffey and his minions found their way into Asgard…into the Weapons Vault…into my bedchamber? Your love has always blinded you where Loki was concerned. So much so that you’ve never been able to see beyond the child to what the man might become. Duplicity and mayhem are his nature; never more evident than in the events leading up to tonight.” Odin strides to her and grasps her shoulders. “Frigga, he intentionally set a trap to murder his true father. 

Frigga twists out of his grasp. "Only to save your life! Blood is all that linked them, nothing more. Lauffey tossed Loki away, without pity or a second thought. You…gave him life, a family…a chance. You…are his rightful father, Odin! And, harm Thor? Never! Loki loves Thor, dearly! As children he was closer than Thor's own shadow! He is not the monster you so desperately want him to be!"

"Did they,” Frigga stabs a finger upwards towards the ravens, “not also inform you of what Loki has been going through? No? How inconvenient, for apparently his anguish and confusion as he sat watch with me by your bedside attempting to make sense of what his life had suddenly become was the only issue your Odin's Sleep kept from you."

Frigga stops for breath. Odin sits down heavily upon the bench. She sinks to her knees before him and lays her hands upon his arms. "Loki was dealt a terrible blow. He feels so lost, Odin. He was in need of your reassurance but you fell into Odin's Sleep so he was denied. I tried to help him see that it makes no difference where we are concerned, that we are and shall ever be his family. But all of my assurances have been in vain; it is not I he needs to hear it from. He's never had cause to doubt my love, or Thor's. But…you've never attempted to hide where your preference lay." Sorrow and accusation color her voice. Odin neither acknowledges nor denies. "You've never approved of my instructing him in magic but I had to give him something of his own."

She leaves him to stand again at the balustrade. A faint highlighting along the horizon hinted at dawn. She feels Odin's gaze but ddoesn’t look at him. "I begged you to tell him the truth when he was still young but at an age to understand. When he had his family around for support. We could have told him, and Thor, together. Thor would have helped to blunt the shock. But you insisted on keeping it secret, and I didn't push, although I knew, in my heart, there would be repercussions. Secrets never stay that way…secret. Like eggs, they will eventually hatch, that's the certainty. The uncertainty…the danger…is what that hatching will bring forth."

Abruptly, Odin rises, slapping his thighs. Taking a deep breath he says, "Frigga, you know the prophesy as well as I do."  
She pushes away from the balustrade. "And you fear that Loki will be its catalyst? That our son will bring about our destruction? How can you believe that of him?"

Her continued insistence on referring to Loki in the present tense rankles and, adds to his disquiet. He loses his temper, "He was not…our…TRUE son!" He pounds his hip with his fist, "I should have left him that day…on Jotunheim. Should have walked away." Frigga does not recoil; he doesn’t frighten her. "But don't you see," she coaxes, "you didn't walk away. You brought him home, to me, and I could not love him more. He is mine, ours!"

Odin spins to face her and the words come, cold and sharp. "He was meant to die!"

She grabs his arm, "No, he wasn't. Something led you to that temple. You were meant to find him, to save him."

"Yes, you are right.” He nods slowly, the golden eye patch a skull’s empty socket in the half-light. “I now believe I was meant to find him, but for what purpose? All these years I have tried to tell myself he could be used to unite our two races, to bring peace. When in fact, I have lived in dread that it was not peace he would bring but the downfall of us all."  
He sees by her expression that his words have had no effect. "There are other…things…" His words cut off abruptly. He raises his chin, “None of this is relevant now; Loki is gone…dead. You must accept that.” 

The tight rein she has been holding on her emotions has been yanked from her grasp and she demands, "Other things…concerning Loki…what do you mean? What are they?" 

Odin raises his hand, "No…I misspoke." He rubs his temple. "I have said things I shouldn't. After all that has transpired…my words are incited by sorrow and shock. Forgive me." He slowly crosses the room to stand before her, head bowed and arms wide in supplication. 

Frigga hears the break in his voice, sees his eye cloud so, even though there remain questions unanswered, accusations unaddressed…after a few moments, she walks into his arms and allows him to embrace her. Odin's breath expels in relief. Resting his chin on the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion, he says hoarsely, "You are wrong, I did love him. But, you see, the fears that I've harbored ever since that day I brought him to Asgard, kept me from letting it show, too much. So tonight, on the BiFrost, seeing a way to finally end it…" His voice trails off. Frigga feels the shudder run through his body and hugs him close. He relaxes against her in gratitude.

### 

Frigga stands before her reflection pool. The day is new yet the air holds a memory of the night past, a trace of…scorching. Suddenly she clasps her hands against her abdomen. Ah, there it is again. A tug such as a fisherman feels upon his line. But this signals something far more precious than a hooked fish. It is faint, due to distance, but has strength. An umbilical cord of shared magic. She smiles to herself…a mother's smile.

◊◊◊

 

Chapter 2  
Asgard - Present Day

"No, thank you."

An Einherjar steps forward and bows, "My Liege?”

Odin gives no notice that he is aware of the guard but sits in seemingly deep contemplation, his eye staring at some point in the distance. The guard remains patiently at attention and after several minutes the AllFather stirs. The hand clasping Gungnir tightens upon the shaft as he becomes aware of the guard’s presence. Odin’s face is emotionless but the gaze that meets the guard’s is conflicted, filled with wariness and…irrational excitement. Odin turns his head away and leaning rather heavily upon his spear rises from his throne; as he steps down to the guard's level their eyes meet again and…there is only sadness and resignation in the Allfather's gaze, causing the guard to doubt what he thought he’d seen. Odin nods brusquely, "I shall be in my chambers." Touching his fist to his chest and bowing the Einherjar steps back to his post where he watches Odin's retreat from the Throne Room. The AllFather's shoulders are squared and his back is straight but a great weariness seems to cloak him. Well, thinks the guard sadly, that's only understandable, isn't it, seeing as how it has only been a week since the Queen's funeral? He sighs and thinks how a curse seems to have come to rest over the House of Odin and thus, over all Asgard.

###

While Odin acknowledges the greetings of those he passes with a nod or word his thoughts are on the incident with the guard in the throne room. Outside his chambers he is approached by Lady Eir. She begs a few minutes of his time to discuss a medical matter. Ordering the guards, who have opened the doors upon his approach that they are not to be disturbed he crosses the threshold, followed by the healer. 

Once the doors have closed Odin and his guest pass through the Presence Chamber into his private chambers. After carefully settling Gungnir upon its wall mounts he crosses to a table where a flagon of wine and bowl of fruit have been left for his pleasure, pours a goblet of wine and offers it to Lady Eir, who accepts graciously. Foregoing wine he chooses an apple for himself and propping his hips against the table produces a dagger and deftly begins to peel it.

"So, how was I?" He glances up and sees Lady Eir staring at him, one eyebrow raised. "Forgive me", Odin's shock of white hair and stocky physique vanish. Loki grins, "I find I'm growing accustomed to that form but this," he holds his palms up, "this is much better." 

"I was pleased," says Frigga, also having shed her disguise, "to relinquish your father's role to you. Although, I must admit it was not a hard charade to carry off. After all, I have had many centuries to watch and learn from him but being "dead" gave me so much more freedom as I didn't have two parts to play.”

Loki wags his dagger at her. "I must confess to being quite wounded to find that you hadn't shared all your magic tricks with me or your plan, but…" his voice thickens and his face clouds, "But, I forgave all that when I arrived back from Svartalfheim to find you alive…in Odin's place." Before Frigga can respond Loki clears his throat and… "So," he repeats, continuing with the apple, the peel now curling in one supple strand. He is endeavoring to appear indifferent, "how was I?"

"Your father could not have done better." says Frigga.

Loki's hand gives an involuntary jerk and the apple peel drops to the floor. He recovers swiftly with a laugh. “Then I am truly gratified to hear that I was able to convey convincingly the essence of Odin’s incredible parenting skills, his unconditional support, empathy and, mutual respect.” He tosses the dagger and browning apple upon the table and levers away. “I portrayed Odin as the father…Thor has always wished him to be. It only proves how mead-brained he is, anyone else would have deduced immediately that all was not right.” “Evidently”, he muses, “he’s truly never not going to fall for it."

"Thor was distracted by all that had transpired – our “deaths”, fighting Maleketh - but others will not be so preoccupied. Which means,” Frigga chides gently, “that you were taking an awfully big chance…should anyone else have overheard you."  
"I…Thor had sworn an oath to me on Svartalfheim…he kept it.” He shrugs and gives the apple peel a kick. After a moment’s hesitation, “After Thor departed…there was a guard present but, there is no need to worry as I shall be dealing with him later.”

“There is no need, he saw nothing.” It is Loki’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I made sure you were cloaked.” Frigga shakes her head, “But really, Loki, what if Thor had turned? Even at such a distance it would have been obvious you were not your father.” Her lips hover over her goblet while gazing at him from beneath lowered lids. “One would almost think you wanted him to catch you.” Loki throws her a look but she takes a sip of wine and says, "Still and all, I was proud of how you handled Thor and I know your father would have been, too." 

"Oh, yes?" Loki crosses his arms. "And, how is…Odin?"

"He is well." Frigga takes another sip of wine.

Loki unbuckles and strips off his armguards and outer coat and tosses them onto a chair. Leaning in close to his mother he whispers, "You are sure of the security of his location? I would so hate if any of his enemies should stumble upon it while he's…um…incapacitated."

Not taking the bait she replies, "No need for worry."

"Ah, but even an adopted son tends to do so, I'm afraid." 

"He is where no one can find, or harm him." Frigga's eyes narrow. "I will not allow him to be harmed, Loki. Not by anyone, do I make myself clear?"

Loki, pouring himself a goblet of wine, inclines his head, "You have my word."

Frigga sighs, "I admit your father has made some unfortunate mistakes…" Loki interrupts, "Really?" "…which," she continues, "I am trying to rectify. But that aside, he is still your father and loves you."

The goblet smashes against the wall, wine drips like blood. "HE IS NO-…” Frigga grabs his arm and twists him around to face her. "ENOUGH, LOKI! Enough! I've heard this before [Loki, remembering, flinches] and am sick of hearing it. I know you have been hurt, terribly, but why must you insist on wallowing in it? Rather than shedding it like a serpent's skin you've burrowed deeper into it and it is poisoning you!"

Loki stumbles back as though he's been backhanded and lands awkwardly upon the steps leading up to Odin's bedchamber. Frigga sits beside him, reaches out and catches his hand and in a gentle voice says, "Forgive me, but the past is what it is and cannot be undone. The secret of your parentage was not kept from you to cause you pain but to safeguard you from it. The only thing now is to forgive so you can go forward…do you really not see that?" As she'd done so often when he was a child she tenderly brushes his hair from his face. "Tell me truly Loki, has your life here, as son and brother, been so terrible that you would rather have been left to die on Jotunheim?"

Loki doesn’t answer, just takes her hand and bows his head. She kisses the top of his head. They sit there in silence.  
Frigga is the first to speak. "I must return to your father soon, has there been any news of Thanos?"

Loki shakes his head, "No, the spell you placed on Huginn and Muninn is still in place and they continue to recognize me as Odin; I have sent them throughout the realms but they have uncovered no news of the Other or Thanos." Loki smiles reassuringly at his mother. "Do not be concerned, Mother, as long as he continues to believe I died on Svartalfheim, I'm safe. I planned everything before the attack on New York. It was the only way to draw Thor to Midgard. I knew the Chitauri would be defeated and Thor would insure I was returned here. Although, when Malekith attacked Asgard, I must confess to being momentarily concerned that Thanos had seen through my ruse and ferreted me out.”

“And, when the time comes, you are certain these…Avengers…will be able to defeat him?” Frigga’s eyes are troubled.  
“Mother, I have seen firsthand what they are capable of, once they quit their childish squabbling, and have no doubt they will prove Thanos’ match.”

She leans forward and clasps Loki’s hands, her face radiating joy. “Then it will all be over. You shall be safe, your father can return, Thor shall bring his Jane Foster home to Asgard and, we shall be a family once again.” Loki squeezes her hands and returns her smile.

Not long after, Lady Eir takes her leave.

###

Loki’s finger traces a trail among the pawns set out upon the hnefatafl board. They are set for battle, exactly as he left them. His attention shifts to the room, his bedchamber. Although lit only by moonlight he knows every shape and color by heart…the vague outlines on the walls are the maps he’d hung [with Thor’s help] when he was twelve, the forms in various widths and heights lining shelves from floor to ceiling are the spines of books he’d arranged meticulously by subject [although a few lay strewn upon the bed], the bizarre shapes scattered amongst the books are artifacts he’s collected from far off realms. Everything is exactly as he left it that day they set out for Jotunheim. He learned that since that fateful night upon the BiFrost, Frigga had ordered that his chambers be locked and their contents left undisturbed. He’s not felt the need to venture in until tonight. 

He picks up a pawn recalling the bubble of joy that had swelled within him when Odin had presented the game to him on his seventh birthday, saying “My father Bor gave this to me upon my tenth year but you, Loki, despite your tender age, possess the quickness of mind to appreciate and unravel its complexities. So, I pass it into your keeping.” The bubble had deflated a little when Odin had added, “See if you can get Thor to develop an interest in it. It would do much to aid him in developing the tactical and judicious skills he will need when he becomes king.” Ever pursuing Odin’s approval, he’d tried his best through the years to lure Thor to the game hoping his brother’s competitive nature would serve as an ally but it had been in vain, Thor would always be more berserker than strategist. 

Replacing the pawn he wanders around the room. Absently he picks up the skeleton of a fire serpent, taking care with the delicate bones. An inhabitant of Nidavellir the reptile is a master of illusion, evading capture and death by appearing to be ablaze. He recalled how impressed Sif had been when he’d thrust his hand into the flames and plucked the squirming body from the ground. Her admiration had quickly dissipated when Thor had laughingly revealed it to be an illusion. An illusion. The bones crumble into dust as they are crushed between his hands. As the remnants fall to the floor he whirls to face the room, body quivering with the effort to hold himself in check, for it would not do to alert anyone passing of a presence in chambers that should be secured and vacant. The chamber is spacious and handsomely furnished as befits the bedchamber of a prince of Asgard, a son of Odin. But it too is just an illusion, for the prince…the son who lived within its walls never truly existed. There is and always has been just one son of Odin within this palace and it is not he. He raises his left hand and observes it in the gloom. Crossing to stand before a mounted mirror he studies his reflection intently and finally acknowledges to himself that he also is nothing more than an illusion. The face and figure reflected in the mirror a smokescreen concealing his true self. Yet, he can’t bring himself to relinquish the facade…the lie.

He drops down upon the bed. It was a mistake to have come. It is only because of his mother’s words that he’s done so…her optimistic belief that their family could be restored. Could it be possible to regain what once had been after all that has been revealed…done? Perhaps, if it only involved Frigga and Thor, he knows he has his mother’s forgiveness and that Thor’s could be his for the asking but…Odin? The Allfather had shown forgiveness to Thor by rescinding his banishment. [And, hopefully, would show the same magnanimous attitude toward Frigga when all was finally revealed.] But he rather doubts that Odin would exhibit the same benevolence toward his adopted son. Loki laughs harshly under his breath. Odin had made that very clear upon the BiFrost and again when passing sentence and condemning him to the dungeons.  
Nor could he, for that matter, ever forgive Odin. When he was small and couldn’t fall asleep because of something worrying that had occurred during the day Frigga would comfort him by saying that memory was like a rushing stream upon which any unhappy or regretful thing could be swept away and could only return if he allowed it. Well, his memory is now a stagnant pond in which Odin’s betrayal and rejection is forever trapped. Frigga’s wish will only ever remain partially fulfilled…for it won’t include him.

He, Loki has lost everything. 

And, what of Thor, what has he lost? The sole initiator of what would have been a catastrophic war between worlds…was welcomed home, made protector of the Nine Realms and, set free [unknowingly by his enemy] of his obligation to the throne of Asgard [to live his life with the woman he loves]. 

But he has something that Thor does not, the knowledge that their mother still lives. Odin had thought to crush him not only by denying him his birthright and his freedom but access to his mother as well. But the crowning degradation had been when, rather than break the news of her death in person, Odin had sent a lackey. It had been there, amidst the wreckage of his cell, brought to his knees by grief that he had sworn to destroy Odin [and those that had ‘destroyed’ Frigga]. And Thor…had provided the key. 

Who was having the last laugh, now?

How he had savored that moment when he had faced Odin for the last time. Reveling in how it was he this time, who would be the bearer of devastating tidings. It had been on the tip of his tongue to pronounce Thor dead, to see the almighty AllFather crumble at the news that his firstborn was no more. But…he hadn’t. Instead, he’d told the truth, Thor was alive but that a body had been found. Thinking back, he supposed he’d had a perverse curiosity [hope?] to see if Odin would mourn…him. But he would never know what Odin’s reaction would have been for, it hadn’t been Odin standing high above him on the dais but…Frigga. 

When Frigga had revealed herself, for a moment he had thought perhaps he had indeed died on Svartalfheim, and that she was welcoming him to Hel. But the initial shock had been quickly replaced by overwhelming joy and now that they are together again, he will keep her safe…at all costs. 

It is for that reason he has told Frigga all…that he wants her to know. 

Rising from the bed he takes a final look around at the hollow possessions of a boy who never existed, then turns on his heel and leaves. Upon the wall the mirror glows green and…shatters.

###

 

EPILOGUE

Odin/Loki stands upon the top step of the Weapons Vault, memories skittering like spiders through his mind… This is where he had been stripped of everything. He had mounted these steps and emerged…no longer a son and a brother but…a monster, all, in the course of a single day. 

Walking swiftly down the steps he reaches the floor and moves determinedly down the center aisle, passing cell after cell, ignoring some of the deadliest weapons in the Nine Realms until he reaches his goal. Using his magic to unlock the cell door he steps in and advances towards the only object there, a large golden gauntlet. He hesitates for only a moment before picking it up and conjuring an illusion to take its place. Relocking the cell he checks that the illusion will deceive anyone glancing in before retracing his route to the steps. He climbs swiftly and exits the Weapons Vault. Odin/Loki smiles to himself…this should keep Thanos occupied.

-THE END-


End file.
